An angsty college Alex reluctantly comes home from Stanford for an explosive, emotional Chanukah with Eliza, Kara, and the memory of Jeremiah.
Alex had wanted to spend the weekend in Oakland with the girl from her organic chemistry class who always wore these low cut shirts and tight jeans and had invited her to a talk on a clinical trial on gene splicing in embryonic stem cells. Truth be told, Alex had already seen the lead researcher give a talk, and she hadn't been terribly impressed; she'd have been more so if he'd been working with adult stem cells, and if he hadn't been so damn full of himself.
But this girl with those shirts and those jeans had bit her lip when she asked her and she was talking about making a road trip out of it and Alex's breath had hitched and she didn't know why but she liked it…
And then Kara had called.
It wasn't Kara's fault, not really.
Alex blamed Eliza. Sending Kara as her messenger.
"She really misses you, Alex, and she's sad you're not coming home for Chanukah. I mean, I miss you, too, but I see you practically every weekend… She just misses you, Alex, especially around the holiday, without Jeremiah – "
"Mom's not sad I'm not coming home, Kara, she's sad she won't have her whipping girl there to scold like I'm a child for not calling enough, for you getting that A minus last week, for not being graduated already, for you getting a hangnail – "
"Alex, she's not trying to fight with you. She does, she misses you. And I miss you. You already missed the first two nights: but it's the weekend now, and we can have a good time. Come home."
Alex thought about the girl from orgo and she thought about Kara's pout. She thought about a road trip driving next to this girl who bit her lip when she talked to her and she thought about Eliza's latest string of reprimands: "People balance their family responsibilities with their schooling all the time, Alexandra; how else do you think I wrote my dissertation with two teenage girls in the house? You need to find a way to spend less time distracted and more time making sure Kara isn't getting into trouble; she's only a freshman and you know the pressures of freshman year, Lord knows you succumbed to enough of them."
She thought about Kara's inability to get drunk and her wide eyes last time she described the aggressiveness of college boys, and she thought about Jeremiah's small smile the first time he walked into the kitchen to see Alex teaching Kara how to make latkes.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, breathed deeply, and sighed.
"Alright, I'll get the next train out. See you soon."
The girl from orgo class went to the talk with a busty blonde instead, and Alex forced any further rumination on the whole thing out of her mind.
"My darling girl!" Eliza cried as she opened the door, Alex still fumbling in her duffle bag for her keys. "Why didn't you call me, I would have picked you up from the station!" Eliza's excited voice was muffled over Alex's shoulder as she pulled her into a hug.
Alex stiffened but smiled weakly and brought a slow arm around Eliza, breathing in vanilla and that indefinable scent of home.
"I like the walk," Alex shrugged as Eliza released her.
Truth was, she needed it to settle her racing heart.
Truth was, she needed it to clear her head, to give her a transition between studying on the train: being the unshakeable, top-of-the-class-at-Stanford woman who's got it all together, who goes running in nothing but her Stanford sports bra and basketball shorts every morning at five a.m. before heading to the lab, always six and a half steps ahead of everyone else – and seeing Eliza: being the unsteady, unstable, too-much-alcohol-drinking, why-would-you-do-it-that-way-when-this-way-is-so-much-better little girl that she felt like around her mother.
"Alex!"
The two syllables of her own name, accompanied by the rapid pounding of feet pattering down the stairs, set her entire body more at ease, sent her entire being into a state of knowing everything would – somehow, despite all the evidence to the contrary – be alright.
"Sis," she barely had time to breathe before her little sister had replaced Eliza in her arms. As she usually did when they went more than a week or so without seeing each other, Kara cracked Alex's spine a little with the force of her hug, but Alex found she didn't mind, and she burrowed her forehead into Kara's neck.
Kara ran her fingers briefly through Alex's long, long hair, hoping she was breathing some comfort into her: she could feel the racing of her big sister's pulse, could feel how quickly, how hard, her blood was pounding through her veins, how much adrenaline her system was flooded with.
She pulled apart from Alex abruptly and grabbed her duffel. "Latkes! Come!"
Kara nearly dislocated Alex's shoulder with the eagerness with which she yanked her off into the kitchen, and Eliza shook her head and laughed as her girls giggled their way into the mist of hot oil and grated potatoes that layered the kitchen.
"How's everything in the lab, Alex? Kara tells me you've become the lead undergraduate researcher – something you didn't see fit to tell me?"
Alex shrugged and took a long, long gulp of wine while Kara lowered her eyes and Eliza arched an eyebrow.
"Well, Mom, the lead undergrad researcher barely gets a footnotes mention in the publications, so I didn't think it'd be – "
"But you're the one doing most of the work! Didn't you say you were the one discovering all those geneti-whatsits?"
"Genetic markers, Kara, and yeah, sure, but that doesn't – "
"That's a tremendous accomplishment, Alex. I'd have thought you'd be proud to tell me, especially as it would help me understand why you've had so much less time to support Kara's transition to college this semester – "
Alex held her breath and poured herself more wine.
"Oh, no, Eliza, Alex has been – "
"Drinking like it's Purim instead of Chanukah, and all before we even had the chance to light, I see. Are you going to be able to remember the blessings, Alexandra, or do you intend to slur your way through the prayers your father used to lead?"
Alex stood somewhat unsteadily, wishing Kara hadn't called, wishing she'd gone to that stupid talk with that girl from orgo, wishing she were back in her lab, wishing she were anywhere, anywhen, but here.
"Kara, can you leave us alone? Just for a minute?"
"Alex, I don't think that's such a – "
"It's alright, Kara. Alexandra clearly needs to get some things off her chest. Go on, I'm sure this won't take long before she passes out from all that wine."
"Alex – "
"It's fine, Kara, I'll come upstairs to get you before we light, okay?"
"Alex – "
"Okay?"
Kara stared between Eliza and Alex, worrying her bottom lip, before she scraped her chair back and darted up the stairs, tears clouding her eyes.
Alex watched her go with a steady glare that was meant for Eliza, not Kara, and the moment she disappeared over the top of the stairs, Alex started in.
"You know what, Mom, you're right. A lot of alcohol for the massive failure. Maybe I do have the wrong holiday. Hell, if it were Purim, maybe I could throw on an argyle sweater and x-ray vision canceling glasses – wouldn't that be the perfect costume? Alexandra Danvers, dressed as the daughter you'd so clearly prefer?"
Eliza has stood by this point, too, nostrils flaring, shaking her head.
"Why must you do this, Alexandra? Take every holiday and turn it into a battlefield?"
"Oh," Alex laughs dryly, gesturing at Eliza with her sloshing glass of red wine, "okay, I get it. I get it. You're gonna object to me ruining another holiday, but not to the idea that Kara's your favorite daughter?"
"Forgive me if I choose not to respond to such clearly ludicrous suggestions, Alexandra – "
"Oh, it's ludicrous, now I'm ludicrous, okay. You know what, this is just perfect. I could have been at a talk in Oakland, I could have – you know I came here because Kara said you missed me, wanted to spend the holiday with me, but you know what Mom? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not Kara and I'm sorry I'm not Dad. I've tried to be both for so long, for you, and apparently when I'm trying to just be me, it's not enough. So you know what?"
She grabbed a book of matches and stalked to the menorah, to Jeremiah's old menorah, to the one that used to make his face light up and his laughter ring louder.
"Kara!" she shouted upstairs as Eliza just watched her daughter, struck silent, silent, silent.
A tentative Kara padded down the stairs, and the moment she saw her, Alex struck a match and lit the bottom of the shamash until the wax started melting down.
"Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah," she rapid-fired, glaring up at Eliza as trembling hands lit each candle, glaring as she successfully navigated the Hebrew without slurring, without Anglicizing the cheit, keeping it strongly in her throat, nearly slamming the semi-melted bottoms of each candle into their proper spots.
"There. We celebrated. Happy Chanukah. I'm going out."
Eliza sighed and lowered her head, Kara breathed Alex's name but knew there'd be no point trying to stop her, and Alex stormed to the back door, grabbing her surf board, kicking off the heeled sandals she tended to put on around Eliza, and slamming the door behind her.
Alex didn't return until long after it became to dark to safely surf; until long after the freezing water had her shivering; until long after Kara had settled herself on the shore, knees curled into her chest, watching Alex forlornly; until long after the stars had come out, long after the sight of the Orion Nebula above the glint of the ocean calmed Alex's raging blood somewhat.
"I shouldn't have encouraged you to come home," Kara apologized as Alex emerged from the ocean at last, board tucked under her arm, the only indication that she saw her – or cared – was the slight slowing in her pace to allow Kara to scramble up and follow her off the beach.
Kara tossed a towel over Alex's dripping shoulders, and Alex grimaced her thanks at her.
"It's not your fault, Kara." Her voice was distant, hollow, but it at least lacked the bitterness it had dripped with earlier in the evening.
The girls said nothing else as they trudged back to the house, and Eliza said nothing as she looked up to see them slipping through the back door. Kara grimaced a greeting at her, but Alex looked past her as she settled her board down and doubled up the stairs. Kara followed.
Alex slipped into Stanford sweats and climbed up onto the roof from her old bedroom window, leaving it wide open for Kara to join her. When she finally did – it took longer than Alex had expected, and she grabbed at the opportunity to lay on the roof with her hands behind her head, mapping the stars with her eyes – Kara was balancing two steaming mugs of coffee and a heaping plate of latkes and jelly donuts.
"Thought you'd be hungry after all that surfing," Kara said in a small voice, and Alex chuckled dryly.
"Plus you were hungry after spending all that time foodless on the beach watching me."
Kara smiled sheepishly and passed Alex, sitting up now, the plate so she could settle down next to her.
"How's Mom?" Alex asked after two latkes, a few deep gulps of coffee, and half a jelly donut.
"Sad. A bit angry. But she loves you, Alex. She mostly just wants to make sure you're okay."
Alex glanced sidelong at her sister. She would be angry with her – furious – if she didn't know that Kara defended Alex to Eliza in the same way that she was now defending Eliza to Alex. She just never wanted anyone to be angry with each other, Kara. So Alex just shrugged and shoved the rest of her donut into Kara's eager mouth.
"I was just apologizing to Dad," Alex told her in a defeated voice, laying back down and nodded up at the stars. "For rushing through the blessing like that. For lighting with that kind of bitterness."
Kara stared at Alex for a long moment before lying down next to her, balancing her coffee mug and the food plate on her stomach.
"Jeremiah would understand."
Alex sighed long and hard. "You think it'd be okay to light them again? The… right way?"
"Tonight?"
Alex turned her head to stare into Kara's blue eyes. "Yeah."
Kara grinned and sat up on her elbows.
"Let's do it."
Alex nodded softly, heaving another sigh at the sky. She took the plate of food from Kara while she clambered back through Alex's bedroom window, and passed it ahead of her as she did the same, spilling some coffee on her fingers but not particularly minding, relishing the burning feeling.
"Mom," Alex called as they trooped downstairs. "We're gonna light again. Properly. Wanna come do it with us?"
Eliza closed her eyes from her reclined position on the couch, inhaling heavily and the corners of her mouth twitching into a grateful smile. It was the closest her daughter was going to get to an apology tonight: Jeremiah would have accepted it, and so would she.
"I'd love that, sweetheart."
And she did.
